Love, Potter
by katyedavis
Summary: Harry had written a plethora of letters to a particular ferret. He just happened to let one of them slip into Malfoy's lap.


**A/N: This is a gift fic for a very talented writer and I'm so sorry that it was delayed. This is for her one true pairing. Even though I don't particularly ship this, I am so excited to finally have this out for her.**

 **This is for** : agentmoppet  
 **OTP** : Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

 **Love, Potter**

Harry had never rushed to get to the library before. This was something new that he had developed over recent times. It was usually that time of day where Malfoy and his cronies would torture first years for being studious and where Harry was usually the first to defend them. Harry hoped that he could get there before the showdown.

He desperately wanted to get some writing done.

Over the past few weeks, Harry had way too many thoughts that he knew he shouldn't be having. The only way to get rid of them? Letters to the unwitting person of whom he fantasized about. Of course, these letters would always remain private. Harry usually wrote them down and then burned them outside. Sometimes he would toss them in the common room fireplace just to watch his feelings slowly burn away. It never worked but he liked to think that it did.

To his luck, there was no Malfoy in sight.

"Thank Merlin," Harry sighed, taking an empty desk towards the back of library.

He made sure that no one was around before taking out his special stationary and favorite quill. These were things that he knew nobody thought he had. He hid them well for years.

 _ **Dear Malfoy,**_

And so, he began his letter. Although, the more he thought about this person, the more confused and entranced he became. He couldn't get those steely grey eyes out of his mind. Sometimes he felt that those eyes bored holes into his being without really being there. Every smirk, every glance, and every insult was a fuel to the fire of lust that Harry was convinced he had.

Harry was only sixteen. What did he know of love? At least, that's what he consistently told himself.

He continued his letter.

 _ **You've looked so pale lately. I know your complexion has always naturally been pale but, if possible, you are even more so. I am worried about you.**_

It was true. Harry didn't like to admit when he was worried about someone unless they were a dear friend or a partial family member. He really didn't like to admit he was worried about an enemy. Although, had he really declared him an enemy? Of course, it was like an unwritten rule that those who are mean to you are enemies. Right?

 _ **Even now, you're late for your daily routine of student emotional destruction.**_

Harry glanced around the library to make sure he wasn't wrong. He hadn't been. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen or heard. Harry's spark of hope died down the second he noticed that Malfoy was absent. He just looked back down at his letter and wondered what would happen if Malfoy had ever gotten ahold of this. He would be a laughing stock. He'd be ridiculed by everyone. It wasn't fair that he felt he could never express his feelings but he knew why. He knew this was something that could never be. Forbidden feelings were, well, forbidden.

 _ **I watched you in the Great Hall last night. You barely ate and I couldn't figure out what was happening to make it so you couldn't even drink you pumpkin juice.**_

Harry tried to glance at Malfoy at least five times during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He knew it was border line stalking but sometimes he just didn't care. He was curious as to what he was doing, what he had chosen to eat, or who he was talking about.

One night, towards the beginning of dinner, Harry caught those cold eyes with his emerald orbs and knew right away that something had been off. Of course, Harry looked away while pretending to be disgusted with the fact that they were even in the same room. Harry wasn't truly disgusted. In fact, he was even more intrigued than usual.

 _ **There are so many things I want to tell you but I know that I never can. I want to tell you that I have dreams about you or that I wish we could sit next to each other in classes. It will never happen but the thought is always nice.**_

Harry looked up because he felt like someone was getting closer. When he saw who it was, he immediately scribbled the ending before folding it up and hiding it under his potions book that he had been pretending to read.

"Oy, Potter! Don't you know this is where I sit?" Draco Malfoy spat, although the tone didn't quite reach those eyes.

Harry thought they looked lonely but he had no choice. He had to put on a mask for the sake of his status. Although, he quietly wondered why Draco was here alone and not with his goons.

"I don't remember these desks being assigned, ferret!"

Draco was taken back but he played the game just as well as Harry did.

"I guess you must have hit your head pretty hard in that last Quidditch game then. Move it, Potter!" Draco hissed with a smirk.

Harry had been so angry that he slammed his potions book shut and hurried away from the desk just as he was instructed.

Draco watched Harry storm away and practically slam the library door behind him. He sighed and plopped down in the seat that Harry had preoccupied seconds ago. Something was different. He heard the crumple of paper beneath his feet and wondered what it was.

However, after his eyes scanned the contents that crowded the fancy stationary his eyes were wider than saucers and he looked up where Harry had once been. Draco let his hand sink to his sides with the letter dangling loosely from his hand.

 _ **Love, Potter**_


End file.
